


BDSM Is Just a Mutual Commitment to SIMP

by goresmores



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Plugs, BDSM, Dom!Tony, Feeding Kink, Feminization, Handcuffs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Torture, Safeword Use, Slapping, Spanking, Subspace, housewife steve, sub!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23392192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goresmores/pseuds/goresmores
Summary: Tony and Steve do a scene where Steve plays the dutiful housewife, ft. Steve's insatiable sweet tooth, Tony's joy in feeding him and a whole lotta pain for Stevie wonder
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 103





	BDSM Is Just a Mutual Commitment to SIMP

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt edit this because im a fake writer and i hate grammar. yes i want to edit for a living, no i do not accept criticism. that said, this is the first mcu fic that ive actually finished, and thats a hell of an accomplishment

"Steve." 

Steve turned his head to look at the wall. 

"I'm not gonna ask again. You put the apron on like you said you would or I'll put it on for you. Either way, you're wearing it." 

"Then put it on, because I'm not wearing that." 

Tony resisted the urge to sigh and knelt down onto the floor next to Steve so he could put the loop around his neck. He situated it nicely against his chest and over his thighs before he moved to the back to tie the strings into a pretty little bow. He patted what little of Steve's ass he could reach before standing again up to admire him from above. 

He'd been vague when he'd asked Steve to wear an apron because he knew that if he tried to give them what they both wanted, Steve would reject it. Getting him to agree to the scene for today was a chore all its own, so ruining all his hard work by mentioning the pièce de résistance just wouldn't have been worth it. Anyhow, the way Tony sees it, it's easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission.

Steve agreed to wear an apron. Tony simply took that to mean any old apron would do, and his apron of choice was a vintage with bows decorating the hips and frills to really seal the deal. The red, white and blue thing was cheesy, so Tony had cut the red and stuck to white and blue. He was shirtless so the white contrasted nicely against the pale peach of his skin tone, the blue made his eyes stand out nicely, and hell… he was already blushing a gorgeous shade of red. 

"You look so pretty, Steve. Is it really so bad?" Apparently it was, if Steve's disgruntled pout was anything to go by. Fortunately for him, Tony knows how to handle him and he knows what he likes, even if he enjoys being difficult when it comes to accepting it. "C'mon, why don't you get up off the floor and play the pretty little housewife, and when you've done all your chores like a good bitch, I'll give you a treat." He ran his fingers through Steve's hair. "Doesn't that sound nice?" 

Tony was studying his face, and he could tell that the promise of a treat was softening Steve up. 

"I went to your favorite bakery." 

Steve side-eyed him. He was quiet for a long moment before he asked, "What did you get?" 

"It's a surprise." Steve's pout was back with a vengeance. "But," Tony started, relishing the way his lover quirked a brow and turned his head just slightly—body language betraying how amenable he was to whatever Tony would suggest, "if you get up off the floor, maybe I'll give you a hint, hm?" 

Steve sighed as though put upon and picked himself up. He was slouching now that he was standing and Tony tutted. "Stand up straight, honey, you'll have a hunch when you're old." 

Steve glared but stood up straight. 

Tony looked at him for a moment longer and then offered, "It's cream filled." He smiled when a desperate sort of look came over Steve's face, but he held out his hand for Steve to take and then led him to the kitchen. "All I need you to do for today is clean out the fridge and then do the dishes. Can you do that for me?" 

"Of course I can do that for you." He sounded offended by Tony's condescendingly sweet way of talking. 

Tony had to hold back a chuckle. "Then prove it." He smacked Steve's ass in full and goaded, "Prove to daddy you're more than just a pretty face, huh, doll?" 

Steve was flushed insanely red and he was glaring again, but Tony was self-satisfied as he sat down on one of the barstools to watch Steve get to work. He made his way over to the sink and got the water running, plugging up the sink as he added in the dish soap. After it filled up enough and he'd swished his hand through it to irritate more suds, he started moving the dishes into the soapy water.

"You don't wanna start with the fridge?" He asked, inquisitive. He'd said Steve's chores in a specific order, after all.

"I _am_ starting with the fridge," he responded, petulant. "I just want to let 'em soak while I do. Makes 'em easier to wash." 

And didn't that just get Tony going.

Once Steve had all the dishes in the water, he moved over to the fridge, after which it was fairly mundane. Steve was just checking expiration dates, but when he finished with the top shelf and moved down the second, he had to bend over, which gave Tony a great view of his ass. He wolf whistled and Steve stood straight. _"Tony."_

"Steve." He smirked at Steve's embarrassed look and reminded him, "Put your back into it, baby. If I don't see a little elbow grease, you're not gonna see a lick of icing." 

And that did the trick, he was back to being hard at work. 

Thankfully it didn't take long since Tony had purposefully neglected to order more food, leaving the fridge fairly barebones. To compliment it, though, he'd kept the cleaning staff from doing the dishes the past few days so that he would actually have something for Steve to do. Once he closed the fridge, Steve was headed to the sink when he saw the counter. He frowned and grabbed a rag from the drawer, wet it under the faucet and then wiped down the entire thing. 

He was so thorough and determined to make sure that it was clean that Tony felt something hot settle in his stomach. The words _dutiful wife_ flitted through his mind, and when Steve stepped back with a satisfied smile at his hard work, Tony was just a little bit wrecked. 

"Dearest," Tony called out. 

Steve looked up, his smile falling a bit. Oh well, he was a brat. Nothing was going to change that.

"Could you get me some lemonade, please? It's in the picture." Steve didn't look amused, so Tony added, "You're such a sight I'm just parched, doll." 

He flushed and quickly turned around, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pouring Tony half a cup. He set it onto the counter a little too roughly and Tony raised his eyebrows in silent judgement. Steve hunched his shoulders and looked away, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to set it down so hard." 

Tony smiled, raising his glass in a one-sided clink of cups, "Apology accepted. Good job cleaning the counter, sweetheart. You made her shine." 

Steve flushed even brighter and ducked his head, "Thank you." 

So pretty when he's shy, fuck. 

Back at the sink, Steve had the choice of using a scrub brush or a sponge, and bless his heart, he went for the classic green and yellow sponge. He went to reach for a dish and Tony admonished, "Ah, ah. Use the gloves. We don't want your pretty hands getting all pruny, do we?" 

Steve looked around to see if they were in plain sight, and then he opened the drawer to his left. Inside were a pair of yellow gloves that Tony had put in there especially for him. He was planning on fucking Steve within an inch of his life after this, and personally he wasn't into being touched with soggy hands. Plus it really added to the whole vibe, so what the hell. Two birds, one stone. 

He looked like he was hesitating, so Tony urged him on."Chop chop, honey. We haven't got all day." 

He pulled them on and got to work, thoroughly scrubbing every inch of the first plate with the sponge and flipping it over to clean the back as well. He was tense when he started, overly scrutinized and pissed at Tony for being an asshole, but as Tony kept his comments to himself and watched quietly as Steve cleaned cups and forks and bowls, he gradually started relaxing. 

That was part of the reason Tony liked things like this. Steve needed more reasons to relax, he just often needed to be forced into it. Not entirely unlike Tony, if he was being honest, but that's why they have each other. 

This just happened to be the perfect time to go bother him, though. See, Steve over there was halfway done and for most of his chore, he'd had his arms out in front of him. That pressed his pecs together between him and Tony had some ideas about that. Or rather, one specific chain of ideas. 

He got up from his barstool and scooted in back in, watching as Steve glanced up to see what he was up to before looking back down, clearly uninterested. For now. But not for long. 

Tony went to get the little box the bakery had packaged Steve's desserts in and brought it with him as he joined Steve at the sink. Steve looked over at him and he looked weak, "Already?" 

Tony hummed an affirmative, pulling open the delicate bow and lifting the lid to reveal 4 beautiful cupcakes. The cake was pink, topped with white frosting and garnished with a whole strawberry sans the calyx. The fruit shone with a candied coating Tony picked one up, holding it gently between his fingertips. 

"And you said it was cream filled?" 

"Yep." He popped the P, pulling down the edge of the cupcake tin, "With strawberry bits inside to boot. Isn't that sweet?"

Steve nodded, gaze transfixed on his treat. 

"What do we say, Steve?" 

"Please, sir?" 

"That's absolutely right. Please what, though? Specificity is important, sweetheart." 

Steve's voice was rough as he specified, "Please, sir. Feed it to me?" 

Tony smiled, proud of him. "I would _love_ to." He pressed his front along the back of Steve's body and watched from over his shoulder as he held the cupcake to Steve's mouth. Steve was rigid against him. "Bite. This is the only time I'll instruct you to do so. If there isn't enough for you to bite because the paper is in the way, I'll peel off more. You know I like you greedy, but you still have dishes to wash and I expect them to get done." 

"Yes, sir." Steve bit into the cupcake and moaned, going limp against the edge of the sink. His hands were limp in the water as he chewed and that just wasn't going to work. 

It was hot as hell, and Tony was almost achingly hard against his backside, but that just wouldn't do at all.

There were two rules when they played with food, one for each of them: Steve was allowed to be as greedy and messy and slutty as he wanted and Tony wasn't allowed to shame him for it. Not that he wanted to, not really. It was really just a rule for the sake of letting Steve know he was safe. Tony had spent far too much time cultivating a lack of guilt where Steve's gluttony was concerned to shoot them both in the foot by making him feel bad about it. 

Still, Steve got off on shame. He liked being held down and talked down on and teased when it came to things he wasn't actually sensitive about. It made for a good weapon. Especially in times like this, when Tony's oh-so-capable Captain found himself not-so-capable at the hands of his sugary addiction. 

Tony peeled off more of the wrapper to give Steve another bite, and once he was completely disarmed, he used his left hand to reach around and grab Steve's pec. "These'll go right to your tits, y'know. I haven't made good on my promise to buy you a bra, have I?" 

Steve stifled a noise as Tony cupped him, hands back at work on the dishes as a last line of defense. 

"Not a promise," he argued, voice far too breathy for a simple housewife going about her chores, "a threat. I don't have tits."

Tony smirked behind him, "You don't mean that. Besides, I wouldn't call 'em tits if they weren't tits, now would I? You _want_ to wear bras, don't you Steve? You'd look so pretty and they'd be bras that I buy for you. Don't you like that idea? My bras for your tits because they're _mine._ Just like the rest of you." 

Steve was furiously scrubbing now, hands shaking as Tony continued to feed him and talk dirty. The cupcake was gone in two more bites and Tony tossed the wrapper aside to grab both of Steve's precs. He pressed them together to admire the cleavage he could spot under the collar of the apron. 

"Fuck, Steve. Look at your cleavage." Tony ground his cock against Steve's ass, watching with rapt attention as Steve looked down at himself. He stifled a noise and it was obvious, so Tony grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back to speak harshly into his ear. "Hold back my noises again and I'll beat your ass black and blue, do you hear me? This isn't the first time you've done it and you know I hate it." 

He let go and Steve slumped forward, hips trying to find relief against the doors of the cabinet in front of him. Painslut that he is, he could probably make it work, too, so Tony had to move his hands to his hips to still him. 

"Aren't ya s'posed to be makin' me not hold back? Sounds like more of a reason to shut my mouth to me." 

He's such a little shit. Tony's cock throbbed at his defiance and he gripped Steve's hips harder, pulling another faint sound of pleasure from him. "You wanna be smart about it, I can get the belt. I thought you wanted to be a good girl and get to eat the rest of your treats, but if you want to be bad, it won't bother me one bit to punish you." 

Steve whined, shaking his head. "No, no, no. I want my treats, please. I'll be good, I promise. Please, sir." 

"Shoulda thought about that before you talked back. I would have made an exception, but you couldn't even do the one thing I asked of you. All you had to do was eat and wash the dishes." He was playing up his disappointment and it was paying off. 

Shame blossomed across Steve's face and he crumpled, "Please. Please," he watched as Tony closed the box and took it away, his eyes growing wide and his tone frantic, "No! I can wash them, please!" He was cleaning the plate in his hand as fast as he was capable of, "I don't want to be punished, I want to be good! Tony!" But Tony wasn't listening anymore, walking off with the box to hide in their bedroom. 

He sort of felt bad, but seeing Steve frantically begging was almost enough to have him blowing his load on his pants. Steve is so hot when he forgets himself and follows his impulses and desires, but more often than not he's too hyper-aware and insecure. It fucks Tony up to see all of his barriers crumble, and to be the one to take him apart like this. 

When he comes back into the kitchen, Steve is crying and sullen, back to cleaning dishes at the leisurely pace he was before, only now with a much more disheartened air. 

"Don't throw a fit, now. You can earn back your treats." 

Steve is quiet in response, cleaning the last dish and unplugging the drain. The water made a sucking noise as it swirled down and then it gurgled as it emptied. He kept facing forward, even after he'd placed the dish in the drainer to dry.

"Steve." 

Nothing. 

"Steve, turn around." 

He obeyed, but his eyes were downcast and his face was red, another tear slipping down his cheek and onto his apron. Tony stepped forward and used a crooked finger to lift his chin, "Sweetheart." Steve jerked his chin away and Tony grabbed his face with both hands. "When I want you to look at me, it isn't a request, Steve." 

Steve was glaring at him now, and Tony sighed. "Alright, so it's gonna be like that. That's fine." Tony stepped back, letting Steve go. He slapped him across the face, shaking the pain of the impact out of his hand. Steve recoiled, hand coming up to hold his injured cheek and Tony grabbed it, dragging him to their bedroom as Steve protested. 

He threw Steve onto the bed and crawled in next to him. "Bronze." 

Steve's eyes widened as Tony fell back against the pillows and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. 

"Tony? C'mon, talk to me." 

He was quiet for a moment, struggling to find the words and the motivation to actually get them out. Steve's fingers found their way into his hair and he pulled him close in that stupidly effortless way he was capable of. 

"I just—" how does he even explain this? It feels so stupid now that it's over. He ruined the scene for nothing. Of course he did, because he ruins everything. Goddamnit. He dug his heels in deeper as tears threatened to fall. He'd be damned before he cried. Maybe he was already damned? There was the whole billionaire weapons manufacturer era of his life. Oh God, it's getting worse. "When I slapped you and dragged you off it was starting to feel like super unsexy domestic abuse, and then I started thinking about Howard and now it's getting worse." 

Steve's fingers were steady in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp, and Tony almost wanted to melt. "Worse how?" 

Ugh, but that's a terrible question. He pressed his face into Steve's chest and didn't respond. He shouldn't hold it in but talking is so hard and this sucks. He pulled back, "Thought of a figure of speech and then took it too literal. Remembered I'm actually a shitty person." 

"Hey, no, you're not a shitty person, Tony. You turned things around and that means something. You're not like Howard and I'll keep reminding you until you believe it." Again, Tony didn't say anything, and when the silence dragged on for a longer time than it had the other two times, Steve added, "I really liked it, though. If I didn't I would have safeworded out, you know that." 

"Yeah… Yeah, I know that. I'm sorry I ruined everything." 

Steve kissed his head and then placed a second one on his temple, "You didn't ruin anything. You didn't feel good about it and that's okay. Now we know what works and what doesn't and if you want to try something else while we're still set up, we can?" 

Tony thought about it. "Yeah, uh, let me just go get your cupcakes." He rolled out of bed and grabbed the box off of the shelf in the wardrobe so he could set it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He crawled back in as Steve shucked his jeans onto the floor and when Tony laid back against the pillows, Steve straddled his hips to kiss him. 

Steve's arms were wrapped around his neck and his fingers were idly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while Tony's hands found his hips again, thumbs rubbing against his stomach. Tony smiled into the kiss as Steve playfully nipped at his lip, opening his mouth to let the other suck on his tongue for a moment. 

They pulled apart and Tony shook his head, "Alright, you brat. Let me get some cake in your mouth before you try to eat _me."_ He reached for the box and worked it open awkwardly with one hand before reaching inside to grab one. He peeled away the decorative wrapper and held it to Steve's lips, similar to earlier, but this time it was better because he had a lapful of his lover. He watched fondly as Steve's eyes fell shut during his bite. He always luxuriated in the taste and the texture against his tongue, appreciative in a way Tony couldn't relate to. But he could appreciate Steve's appreciation. He liked Steve bratty, but he also liked him sweet and pliant and sugary when he fucked his tongue into mouth—that was Tony's treat. 

It was nice to be able to make up for where he felt he'd messed up by taking care of Steve, running a hand up under his apron and over his thigh as Steve savored his bite. When Steve opened his eyes and his mouth, Tony prepped another bite and let him take it, repeating the process until the second cupcake was gone. 

When Steve was done, he lifted Tony's hands up and pulled his shirt up over his head, going for his mouth like a desperate man. He kissed him hard and rolled his hips forward, moaning at the sensation of their hard lengths rubbing together and again as moving back no doubt shoved the plug in his ass up against his prostate.

The kiss ended too soon for Tony's liking, but it was worth it to see Steve flushed, eyes wide and pleading as he asked, "How are you, Tony? Checking in." 

"I'm golden, sweetie," he reassured.

Steve smiled as Tony worked their go phrase into his response and then let himself slip back into the headspace of their scene. "Please, sir, will you be rough with me? I'll be good." 

Shit. Tony cupped his face, thumb caressing his cheeks, "You want me to be rough with you, sweetheart?"

Steve nodded, half-wrecked just from having to ask. "I'll be good! No more being bratty, only good, I just—" he squirmed in Tony's lap like an anxious puppy, "I want it. To hurt." He turned his face in Tony's hands and nipped at the side of his finger, checking his face to see if he was into it. 

"Okay, honey. I'll hurt you. Suck on my fingers, huh?" He pressed two fingers to Steve's lips and he opened his mouth eagerly, sucking on them like they were one of the best things he'd ever had in his mouth. And maybe they were. Steve was a simple man, he liked cock, fingers and sweets, though not necessarily in that order. 

Tony pulled them out a bit, watching as Steve moved forward to keep them there but backed away to let Tony fuck his mouth a bit. And then he shoved his fingers in hard, choking Steve on them and watching him gag. He clutched his stomach and pretty tears welled in his eyes, the blue of them shining as the light caught them. 

"You're so pretty when you cry for me, sweetheart." He pulled his fingers out and licked them, holding eye contact the entire time. When he pulled them away from his face, he wiped them off on the sheets making a pointedly considerate noise as he said, "Well, look at that. You are what you eat after all." 

Steve was flushed and wrecked, eyes fluttering shut at the compliment. His hips rolled forward again and Tony stopped them in their tracks. "Mm-mm, come on. Off my lap." Steve obeyed, rolling languidly off of Tony's lap and onto the bed beside him. 

He tapped Steve's hip to get him to lift and situated a pillow under them, reaching for the drawer of his nightstand to get the vibranium cuffs out. Steve was watching him the entire time and he had a pathetic look on his face, more tears welling up and spilling over, but he didn't protest.

He liked the cuffs, he was probably just in the mood to be touchy and Tony was happy to take that privilege from him. Besides, he gets a little squirmy when Tony plays with his nipples, so he has to wrangle him in somehow. 

When Tony snapped the vibranium cuffs into place, Steve whimpered and shut his eyes tight, forcing more tears down his face. He was already purposefully fighting against them because Tony had put on the pair without the soft lining and he wanted to feel the metal dig into his wrists. He was content to let him do so, if he wanted to fret he'd do it during aftercare. Steve rarely liked when he made a big deal about it unless he was in a mushy mood, otherwise having Tony fuss at his injuries usually just irritates him, if it just didn't affect him at all. He heals, what does it matter, right? 

It matters. It matters a lot, but sometimes it's better to pretend not to give a fuck.

The pain from the cuffs was already starting to work its magic and Steve's rowdy rattling simmered to an occasional clang against the metal of the bed frame. With that, Tony pulled Steve's ass into his lap and flapped the apron up to peek at Steve's cock, which was straining against his briefs and already leaking a spot of pre into the fabric. "All I've done is choke and cuff you and you're already this desperate? You're such a slut, Stevie." Steve whimpered at the insult and Tony pulled his briefs down, taking them off one leg at a time before tossing them aside. 

He ran the back of his hand teasingly down Steve's shaft and slapped once at his balls, making him yip in distress and buck his hips up to get away from it. It was a fruitless effort of course, because pain is nothing like crop dusting a fart, but it was fun to watch him try regardless. 

Tony grabbed for the plug and Steve's whole body tensed up. He waited and when Steve relaxed, he pulled it out halfway and thrust it back in. 

Steve moaned and squirmed, trying to fuck himself on it as best as he could, but Tony held it in place until he got the hint and stopped, letting his dom set the pace. He was leisurely, taking the time to admire Steve's nipples. "I'm definitely ordering you a bra after this. Look at these, Steve. They're obscene." He cupped one of Steve's pecs with his free hand and thumbed at his nipple. 

Steve squirmed again and Tony fucked the plug in and out to soothe him, pinching at his nipple at the same time to give Steve some dual sensation. He gasped as it hit his prostate and the pain coincided, moaning out loud and going slack against the bed. 

"More, please, fuck, _Tony."_

"Oh, was that a slip up? Must be good if you've forgotten your manners." 

_"Sir."_

"Mmm, that's the ticket." He pinched harder, abandoning the plug to go two-for-two on Steve's tits. Steve cursed and clenched his fists, making the pain worse by moving side to side and worsening the pull on both of his sensitive buds. "So sensitive, huh? Is that good, sweetheart?" 

Steve nodded frantically, desperate for friction on his cock or to have something going to town on his ass, so Tony took mercy on him. 

He reached up above Steve's head and grabbed the clothespins, smirking as Steve's eyes squeezed shut and he moaned lightly with anticipation. Happy to give him what he wanted, Tony let one bite down on his nipple, opening and closing it on a whim just to see how much it wrecked Steve before repeating the process on his other one. 

The memory of Steve admitting to him that before they got together, he used to use clothespins to help himself get off came to mind and Tony groaned. "Thinking about what it was like for you before you had me. Aren't you glad you have someone to take care of you now?" 

Steve nodded slowly, blissed out and clearly on the edge of subspace now that he was nonverbal. Still, he had attitude—that rarely went away. He swirled his hips, an obvious sign that Tony should be taking care of him in other ways as well, and Tony smacked his thigh. 

He considered him for a moment and then decided that asphyxiation would definitely get Steve there. Tony let his hand rest on Steve's throat and he was met with no reaction other than his already huge pupils getting that much bigger. Oh, yeah, this was the way to go. 

Tony held his throat, squeezing with a practiced efficiency as his free hand worked over Steve's cock. He pumped him once and teased his way back up with the webbing between his thumb and pointer fingers; a lazy glide until just up under the head when he teased it some more and then pinched the tip. He played with the precome, swearing it across the head and then gave Steve's balls a rough grip just for the heck of it. 

Deciding that was enough, he started to really jerk him off, going for gold as he waited out Steve's ridiculous ability to hold his breath. If he pulled his hand away too soon, he wouldn't feel the effects of Tony's hand around his throat. That was no fun. So, there was a lot of time to kill as he waited him out. 

What better time than that to milk a quick one and force a second orgasm out of him later? None. Exactly. Tony is a genius in the streets and in the sheets, all to Steve's benefit.

He spent a few good minutes changing his pace and pressure and with Steve so far gone, his orgasm almost came as a surprise. The only warning he got was a quick twitch before come shot out across his apron and covered Tony's hand.

Then, he let him go. Steve heaved in a breath, chest rising and falling as he tried to make up for the deficit of air in his lungs, and Tony moved on.

He pulled the plug out, lubed up his cock and thrust in all at once, hands braced on Steve's waist. 

He cursed as was fully seated, a hand coming up to keep messing with the clothespins and then he started fucking Steve in earnest. His grip was bruising and he was so, so looking forward to seeing Steve all bruised up and tender after this. He's always so gorgeous after a good fuck. Always gorgeous, but Tony is obsessed with all the different packages that it manages to come in. 

He wasn't going to last long, hard as he was before this and now that Steve's tight, wet heat has him surrounded. Steve was pliant and quiet under him, nails digging into his palms as Tony's cock split him open. He was rough and fast and pushing Steve's body up the bed with the force of his thrusts, which Steve would be vocally enjoying any other time, but now he was just a glorified cocksleeve. God, he's so hot. 

He pressed a desperate kiss to Steve's stomach and rode out the wave of his orgasm, curled around him and tiredness seeping in now that adrenaline of the fuck had left him. 

Steve's lack of refractory period meant he was raring for a second one not long after Tony had started using him, so all he had to do was give him a little bit of rough treatment and he was spilling over himself once more. He whimpered distantly and Tony shushed him, pressing kisses to his face. 

He uncuffed him and set them aside, checking his wrists to see how bad they were this time. Far from the worst, he noted, and they were already starting to heal. He unpinched the clothespins and clipped them back into place on the headboard. "I'm gonna clean you up, okay? I'll be right back, sweetie." 

Steve hummed and Tony knew he'd be alright for a quick minute, so he made short work of cleaning himself up and got some ointment out of the cabinet. He dampened a washcloth to clean him up with and once he had what he needed, he climbed back into bed. He wiped gently at Steve's wrists, dabbed some ointment onto them and made sure he was thorough before moving down his body. 

Untying the apron, he threw it onto the floor without a care and continued on with his methodical aftercare, taking care of him and making sure that Steve was alright. He was, which was a relief, and for all the ways he wasn't, he would be. That was the name of the game. 

When he was finished, Tony tossed the rag aside and cuddled up next to him. He clapped to turn the lights off and pressed more kisses to Steve's neck, coaxing him into being affectionate and smiling wide when Steve wrapped his arms around him. 

"Goor job, Steve. You were perfect for me. Just like you always are." 

Steve hummed, pleased, and he was asleep not too long later, Tony close behind once he was sure his job was done.


End file.
